Night
by Lilith Evy
Summary: Thoughts that passes Bard's mind in the ending of Hobbit 2. One shot.


It's night.

The children aren't asleep. Tilda keeps kicking around and shouting, Sigrid goes to comfort her. Yet she's still reacting, for it's the first time of her watching orcs killing. Sigrid herself, is also frightened. But she's the oldest sister. She's really taking the responsibility of a grown-up woman. What else could I ask more for a daughter? Bain however, is reading those old books that tells the story of Durin's sons and the history of the dwarves. He's starting to think about it. He knows that a war is coming.

I can't even close my eyes. Those words keep swirling in my head. Finally. It's upon us. Like an arrow fitted to the string, it's ready. And once that shadow is released, the lake town shall burn.

The prophecy.

I know the legend at a very young age. My father read it to me. He told me that to pass it to my sons. It is the story that accompanies every villagers life. And now it's upon us. The inks on the paper will become real history.

I see snowflakes reflecting the light of fire of the lit torches, I see the mountains, den of the dragon far away. I see the sunlight touches the lake's surface and shine, I see fear in the town peoples eyes.

It'll be the glory of Durin's folk, but it'll be the doom for us. I can already see the lake burning, and I can hear the scream of the villagers. I can imagine when the blood of the town people sinking slowly into the water, and when the beast fires in the sky.

With a heart filled with hope, to the mountain for nothing the dwarves went. They do not know what's before them. Their eyes are covered by the impulse and the emotion of reclaiming their home. They can see nothing before them. They can see only the gold coins and jewels, and the Arkenstone. The peril that lies before them hides deep behind the fogs in their eyes.

And now, this is getting out of hand. A suspicion of me began to grow in the master of lake-town's mind. I could be imprisoned anytime by now. Bain hid the black arrow, safe and quite, lying in Ulry's boat by now. And that's the only hope.

I'll hold onto it, as long as I can.

I hear steps. It must be Tilda, or Sigrid probably. I turn back, and it's Sigrid. She looks at me with worry, and I see a great sorrow in her eyes. This is affecting children. Our future. But how can we protect them? We don't even have a way to save ourselves' lives. But I swear that I'll protect my loves. They are the people I hold most dear in this world, and I would pay anything to guarantee their safety. They shall be my heir and live and prosper, the future belongs to them.

'Dad.' She calls me gently.

'Yes, Sigrid?'

'Tilda. She's really scared. Will you go and try to pacify her?'

At this moment I want to do nothing but shooting. Feel the strength of an arrow released from your fingertips crossing the bow, turns back and forth rapidly and slay many. The movements of archery is just so smooth, and like close... to perfect. I want to do that desperately when I need to vent, I do that every time with the broken glasses at the corner of the passage and the fishes that are close to the water surface, when I need to get something out. That's the magic of archery. It takes a long time to get on with it and skill it to perfection, but it's worth it. You'll never imagine how you will be delighted and comfortable when you are shooting around, feeling amazing.

I walk with Sigrid to Tilda's chamber. On the way, I gaze at her attentively. You can see the magic in her. She is growing up. She is able to comfort all of us with her lovely stew and kind heart. She treated her family and other villagers with smile and passion, how she control her emotions is above all. Even she's in a very bad mood, or she wants to cry, she will still do things for others and put her own feelings selflessly aside. I feel wonderful to see her growing up, and become a real elegant lady.

Sigrid opens the door and let me in. I see Tilda on the chair, sweating and crying. I walk towards her and hold her hand. I feel very sorry but I can do nothing. It's the orcs' face. It must be.

'Dad, I'm so scared. Those demons with scars on their face and maces in their hand. They slashed our furniture and tried to kill us. If Sigrid didn't pull me down into the table, if the elves didn't came along, we'll be dead by now. I'm so scared...'

'Tell me more.' I say.

'Their eyes. There was no mercy, there was no emotion. All they can do is kill and destroy. Dad. I'm so scared.' She keeps repeating the last sentence, which makes me even more anxious. I begin to think how to pacify her.

'You see, Tilda? You were unhurt, right? The elves came and fight the orcs down. They've protected you.'

'No, dad. The female elf came because of the dwarf. The other elf came because of the female elf. If the dwarves are not here, they wouldn't come. Dad. I know that clearly.'

She reminds me of something. We've still got dwarves at home. One of them was injured badly. And probably… Probably one of the elves is staying with him. That means I've still got responsibility on me.

'Sigrid.' I say, 'Take care of Tilda. I need to go and see if our guest is okay.'

'Okay.' Sigrid answers.

'Oh, by the way,' I turn back, 'did the elves linger in our home?'

'Yes.' Sigrid replies, 'but only one of them stayed. She healed the dwarf. The other went after the orcs.'

'Okay.' I say and walk out.

May the Lord bless us. Alas to the mighty days of the past, I may see the sunrise tomorrow, and it may be my last time to admire it. All of those once gloried, now stays no more. It's night now, darkness covers all. But there shall be one day, when people shall rise and meet the dawn.


End file.
